


(Unused Draft)But In A Moment's Time

by Wassup_Persona (Ha_YouWish)



Series: (First ideas/Unused drafts)Beneath The Mask [2]
Category: Persona 5
Genre: Akira Is Blank, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Amnesia, Biracial!Akira, Character Study, END GAME SPOILERS UP TO BEFORE THE 7TH PALACE, Gen, I dont get into it much but its there, I just wanted him to have two moms, Tw for yelling, You know what just play or watch or know what happens through the end, tw for abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-07
Updated: 2017-08-14
Packaged: 2018-12-12 10:51:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11735535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ha_YouWish/pseuds/Wassup_Persona
Summary: By the time Akira turned six, he learned how to fake cry convincingly. Not to get what he wanted like other kids his age did, but in hopes of getting his mother to stop putting him in that room with the lady asking him questions. He never forgot the skill even after society stopped needing him to cry.--NOTICE:A discontinued series first draft. Read if you want, but no more will be added to this. However, this is the bases for a new story in the works. I decided to do an entire AU (This would've gone off into one anyways). More info about it is coming soon. In the mean time, enjoy whatever the hell this is because I'm not using it.I also feel kinda stupid for not being as efficient with this whole mess. However, I'm going to try to take more consideration into future works.





	1. Not Here

Akira was five years old, his birthday being in a few more weeks. His parents were arguing in the other room. Something about “money” and “support” came up in it a few times. He had even heard his name too. He was a smart kid. He knew that his parents had argued all the time and that his mother was unhappy with their situation. The week after he learned they were getting a divorce. He didn't know what that word meant at the time.

During the process, people would ask him questions. How he felt about what was happening or if he was okay. They were expecting him to do something. What was he supposed to do? 

By the time Akira turned six, he learned how to fake cry convincingly. Not to get what he wanted like other kids his age did, but in hopes of getting his mother to stop putting him in that room with the lady asking him questions. He never forgot the skill even after society stopped needing him to cry.

The visits to the lady soon stopped after and time moved on. He moved in with his mother into an apartment. It was small and quiet. The two settled in nicely. They lived there for three years and a half. He still went to the same school. Teachers continued to look at him with pity after the divorce. His mother went out sometimes, probably on dates. He learned how to care for himself. 

One day she told him that they were moving in with her boyfriend. 

The first thing Akira noticed about the man when they first met was that he was large. It was a large difference from his father, who was a tall, lanky man. 

“Name’s Saburo Takehasi. Good to meet you, kid.” He had held out a hand for Akira to shake. Akira had adapted well enough to know what Takehasi wanted him to do, but he stood still. He did not care enough for this man. He would not grow to care for him.

He and his mother had been staying for a month when it happened the first time. When Takahasi yelled at him. His mother was gone at work. 

Akira was watching him. He often does. He studies people, Takahasi had just happened to be the only other one in the house. He must've taken it the wrong way.

“What do you want, kid? Go away.” Akira stayed watching. Something flared in the man’s eyes.  _ Anger, _ Akira’s brain said. It wasn't an emotion he often got to see, he wouldn't be able to replicate it if he tried.

“Get outta here, you little shit! You see I'm watchin’ a show here, get lost.” When Akira remained in the same spot he got up, waving a finger in his face. His breath smelled. Akira didn't know what happened next. There was a lot of yelling directed at him. Blaming Akira for things he didn't even know about, saying he was the cause of all his problems. 

Akira focused on the way there was a burning hate in Takehasi’s eyes. How he motioned everywhere as if to make a point and how certain phrases were repeated. It would be dificult to replicate, but he could probably get some of it down. 

“What? Are you going to say anything?! Retaliate! Give me a reason to shove you into a mental facility! Are you too scared to speak or are you just an idiot?!” Akira didn't even flinch. He turned around and walked back to his room. He had things to do and couldn't be bothered with this anymore.

All the other times were similar to the first one. The yelling, the threats, the taunting, the smell, and Akira walking away. They all happened on the weekends, when his mother had work. It lasted for a few months. 

He knew what Takehasi was trying to do by taunting him. He was trying to push him to a breaking point. But Akira wouldn't break,  _ couldn't _ break- he made him angrier.

He remembers the last time it happened. It was the first time he had the feeling. Something telling him in his mind,  **_rebel_ ** _. _

“I’m not afraid of you,” he told him. It was the truth. He wasn't afraid, he didn't think he could ever be. The smell was strong. He felt a strong force strike his face and found himself on the ground. 

He never really got hurt often, he wasn't sure how to react. He then remembered to a few days ago. A classmate broke her arm falling off the playground. She had cried. He hadn't needed to cry in a while, but he still had the skill to do so on command. 

The next things that happened were a rush that he could barely remember. The police came. Apparently a new neighbor heard the yelling and reported it. Takehasi was arrested. He had been drunk all those times. Akira didn't know that. His parents would never drink when he was little, he hadn't known the smell of it. His mother came home to a police car outside the house and a policeman in charge of watching him. They moved out soon after and into another apartment. 

Because of him, Akira could perfectly replicate anger at nine and a half years old. He never really needed to use it.

They lived in the apartment for four years, his mother sometimes leaving him alone to go out. He didn't know where she went.

It’s a small town, everyone knew. Teachers and kids at school all looked at him with pity. He was sent back to the town therapist for a year. He barely managed to dodge a lot of her questions without coming off as emotionless as he was. 

After moving into a house, his mother seemed happy.

“Are you liking middle school?” she asked while he was helping make dinner one night. 

“I guess.” 

“If you're having trouble adapting to middle school or with anything you know you can tell me, right?”

“Yup,” he says as he starts on making the rice. 

“Oh, make sure to add some extra tonight. We’re having a guest.”

He later found out it was a woman by the name of Kyo Kurusu, the woman his mother was dating at the time. 

He didn't think much of her. He only started to actually listen to what she said the third time she came over. He soon came to not mind her coming over that often. 

She apparently grew up in an even smaller town than his. She told him how she lived in a bakery with her aunt and got to visit Tokyo a few times a year. Her stories were lively and she would make a big show of things. It wasn't annoying, so Akira sometimes asked his mother if she could come over just to tell a few.

Kyo eventually moved in with them a year later. He didn't mind her worrying about him when he went out or constantly fluffing up his hair. Or her onstantly caring about him. She made his mom happy, he guessed she was doing something right. 

Kyo and his mother got married the summer between middle school and high school. Akira made a decision. 

“Are you sure? Ya don't have to, kiddo,” Kyo said when he brought it up during dinner. He knew it was a sudden time to bring it up. Kyo was shocked that he even thought about it.

“Yes.” 

“I'm just tryna make sure. I thought you might've wanted to keep ya dad's name. What's with the change?”

Akira shrugged, “I dunno.” He really didn't. The idea just came to his mind and he said it aloud. 

When school started he didn't have his father’s name, Teru, anymore. His name was Akira Kurusu.

 

* * *

 

One fateful night after school, Akira heard a scream.

That night, Akira rushed to the scene. 

That night, he felt something for the first time.

That night, Akira rebelled from what he was used to. 

That night, he was arrested.

The court didn't even give him a chance. 

He soon found himself dressed in the uniform of a school he had never been to, standing in front of the train station with Suzanne and Kyo Kurusu, his mothers, crying in front of him and promising to call before he was sent off to Tokyo. 

He soon found himself with a mysterious power and a feeling that he only felt time to time. He found himself with friends. He found himself being a leader who hid behind a mask. He found himself silent when questioned about the names of his teammates and silent when asked for a reason why. 

 

As his life leading up to this moment flashed through his mind, Akira found himself staring down the barrel of a gun, and Goro Akechi’s smirking face on the other end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really wanted him to have two moms with one being bi.
> 
> The biracial part doesn't really come into play here but Suzanne is French so Akira is half French half Japanese. 
> 
> I'm kinda tempted to write a story about Kyo's stories. But maybe after I'm done with this stuff.
> 
> Leave what you thought of this chapter!


	2. Not Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Akira Kurusu does not know. Please stop asking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> School's great right :)))) 
> 
> Yeah, that happened. I didn't mean for it to take this long, whoops. School started and shit but that's no excuse so take this.

“The ever-so-confident and strong leader of the Phantom Thieves, Akira Kurusu. Surprised?”

 

Akira can count how many lies in that one sentence he has kept up for the past half of the year. He stays quiet.

 

“I did come here to kill you, however, I thought it would be most useful to get some information out of you first.” Akira continues to stay silent, only slightly wincing when he the buzz of the drugs start giving way to pain. 

 

“Don't worry,” Akechi says, “I don't take long.” Akira expect him to move or sit down, Akechi does neither. He keeps standing with the same smug face with his gun in the same position- aimed at Akira. He stands there for a few seconds before speaking once again. 

 

“You seem pretty calm about this entire thing. There's a reason for that, isn't there?” Akira shrugs,  _ Might as well tell someone if I'm going to die. _

 

“You're asking why I'm not afraid of you, right? Why I’m not angry? Betrayed? Can't feel those things.” 

 

Akechi no longer had the taunting look on his face, instead it became hard to read. Akira might have thought that he caught him off guard. But by the way he quickly regained his stance, Akira could tell he had faked it. 

 

“Well, I've read your records and know about your past. But this is completely unrelated to that, isn't it?” 

 

Akira stares at him, starting to go numb to any pain he had once felt. He doesn't know where Akechi’s going with this, he doesn’t know what he’s planning to do. Still, Akechi continues talking. 

 

“I wonder, why does an emotionless person such as yourself stay a Phantom Thief?” 

 

Akira immediately knows the answer. He doesn't know the words for it but he knows what it came from. 

 

“The same reason why I'm able to summon Personas.”  _ Otherwise, I wouldn't be here, _ he continues in his mind. 

 

Something stirs somewhere inside Akira. A Persona growing stronger; his bond with Akechi has deepened. But why? Akechi hadn't told him some sort of secret or something about himself. That's not how it worked. That's not how any of it worked. 

 

Why did it change? 

 

He saw the shift. He isn't being threatened anymore, though the gun is still pointed at him. Akechi hasn't shot him. Akira isn't dead. 

 

\---

 

But Akira doesn't know what the fuck just happened to him. It's jarring. His last memory is him staring Akechi down in the interrogation room. Now, here he is, sitting against the gate of the Sakura household, barely awake and aware. He can hear shuffling on the other side of the door and can feel someone’s eyes watching him. 

 

The front door opens. Sojiro comes out of the house annoyed, someone must have rang the bell a few times. 

 

“Who the hell in their right mind would ring the bell this late-” Sojiro froze the moment he saw Akira. He immediately opened the gate and helped him up to his feet. 

 

The remnants of what happened in the interrogation room finally caught up to him. It hurt to stand. It hurt to walk. It hurt to breathe. It hurt to try to get around the barrier blocking his mind from remembering how he got here.

 

As he limps through the front door, he looks back. The feeling of being watched is gone. If someone was there at all, they were now swept away with the wind. Sojiro’s voice pulls him back to reality. 

 

“Dammit kid, you almost gave me a heart attack pulling whatever stunt you just did.” 

 

“Sorry,” Akira tried to say, but nothing came out. However he seems to get the point across when he hears Sojiro mutter to himself something about him being “a stupid pain in the ass”. 

 

The room darkens for a moment, his body starting to feel heavy. 

 

“Hey! Don't pass out on me. We're almost to the spare bedroom. Hold on, kid.” Akira tries to hold on, limping his way with Sojiro half-dragging him to the extra room. The moment Sojiro helps him up onto the bed, he fast asleep. 

 

The rest of the night, Akira dreams. He dreams of important power and important people. He dreams of important destinies. He dreams of fate. He dreams for a dreamless sleep.

 

He doesn't remember the dream; he doesn't remember a lot of things. But he wakes up from an echo of an unfamiliar voice screaming in the back of his mind. 

 

**_WHAT HAVE YOU DONE!?_ **

 

* * *

 

When he does wake up, Tae is at his bedside taking his temperature. 

 

“Oh, good. You're up. Now you can tell me what the hell happened and why you made me think you were  _ dead _ .”

 

Akira looks from Tae to the wall on the other side of the room. His mind is foggy; he tries to shake his head and clear it but it hurts to try. 

 

What happened after Sae left? He looks down at himself. He's wearing new clothes, he’s in Sojiro’s house, but he doesn't know how he got here. 

 

Tae speaks again, disregarding her last statement, “You have some pretty nasty bruises. Nothing broken, but your leg is sprained. It'll take some time to heal, so don't do anything too heavy with it. Got it? I have Sakura-san something for you to take when whatever the put into you goes away. Stay on bed rest for about a week-” 

 

“I need to go see my team,” Akira barely gets out in a whisper, “It's part of the plan.”

 

“Then tell Sakura-san to let them come to you. You're staying in bed for a week. I'll check on you afterwards.”

 

“Where is he?” Akira asks. It must be perfect timing because Sojiro walks into the room with a steaming plate of curry. 

 

“I thought you might’ve been hungry, so I brought up some curry. Your friends said they’ll be coming over, Futaba will be here in a little bit.” He helps Akira sit up straight, leaning against the wall being him. 

 

Tae stands up from the chair at his bedside, “I guess this is where I leave. Just follow the instructions I gave you and things should be fine until i check on him in a week. If anything gets worse, contact me. I'm not that far, I can get here quickly,” she looks to Akira, “Don't do anything too straining. I don't want my guinea pig to get even more hurt, got it?”

 

He nods and she leaves, Sojiro following behind to lock the door behind her. By the time Futaba and Morgana walk into the room Akira has eaten only a third of the curry left for him. Morgana jumps onto the bed and sits, staring intently at him.

 

“Akira! You're-” Futaba cuts herself off. He doesn't know why. His situation is hard to adapt to, so he settles on silence. She looks down, “I'm sorry.” 

 

“What are you sorry for?” He asks, but Futaba doesn't answer. Instead, the door opens and the rest walk into the room. 

 

The first two to his side are Ann and Ryuji. Both of them are loud and worried.The others hang back towards the end of the bed in their own worried states. The room soon turns silent, something that Akira’s not used to. The one who breaks the silence is Ryuji, fittingly. 

 

“What  _ happened  _ to you?” Akira knows how to adapt to Ryuji, so he tries to smile. It looks pained. 

 

“We won,” he says. The worried  tension in the room only increases at his words. 

 

“But look at what happened to you!” Morgana complains, “We were worried you didn't make it…”

 

Akira stays silent. He doesn't know how to adapt to the current situation. Everyone’s expecting him to do something- say something- and he doesn't know what. 

 

“Mako-chan,” he hears Haru say quietly, “Can you ask him?” 

 

Makoto nodded, “Yesterday, when sis came home, we talked about what's been going on the last few months. She said you were still in there. I thought…” she couldn't finish her sentence.

 

They thought he died. He _should_ _have_ , if Sae had left. He has no idea why he wasn't. 

 

“Akira,” Makoto starts, bringing him out of his mind, “How did you get back?”

 

“I don't remember anything from Sae-san leaving to me waking up here.”

 

“So even you don't know what happened,” Yusuke murmurs. 

 

“So what do we do now?” Ryuji asks.

 

“Are we just going to forget about this and move on?” Ann says more like an accusation.

 

Morgana shakes his head, “This isn't something to simply overlook,” Morgana thinks for a moment, “Futaba, do you think you can hack into the footage of the interrogation?” 

 

With all eyes now on Futaba, she looks down. “Yeah, I can.”

 

Akira has observed people long enough to tell why that was. 

 

“I think she already watched it,” he says.

 

Futaba looks up, “Sorry.”

 

“What did you find?” Makoto asks.

 

“I saw what happened to him,” Futaba starts, she stares Akira in the eye while she speaks, “I saw him being interrogated. Niijima listed off all of our names, asking for him to say that we were accomplices. He refused, then she asked why and he stayed silent. She left and Akechi walked in. He asked Akira questions at gunpoint.”

 

Futaba stops talking. Everyone is now looking to Akira, looking for him to recall something, to say something. But Akira waits patiently for Futaba to continue to speak. When she does, it's a question. 

 

“Why didn't you tell us?” 

 

**_What…_ **

 

“What is he not telling us?” Makoto asks. 

 

**_have you…._ **

 

“You could've told us that you can't feel…” Futaba whispers. 

 

**_done!?_ **

 

Akira doesn't know what he did. He doesn't know.

 

**_What have you done!?_ **

 

His head hurts. There’s a voice in his head. 

 

**_WHAT HAVE YOU DONE!?_ **

 

The voice is screaming now. Over and over, asking what he has done. Akira doesn't know. His head hurts.

 

He holds his head in pain. He isn't aware of his teammates surrounding him in worry. He’s more aware of the screaming in his head. 

 

**_WHAT HAVE YOU DONE!?_ **

 

_ I don't know _ … 

 

**_WHAT HAVE YOU DONE!?_ **

 

_ I don't…  _

 

**_WHAT HAVE YOU DONE!?_ **

 

_ I…  _

  
What has he done?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, this is the point where the canon divergence starts. Stuff is starting to happen and Akira's got a voice in his head. Nothing too unusual yet. 
> 
> Let me know what you think!


End file.
